


Imbolc

by CosmicCthulhu



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alcohol, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Costume Parties & Masquerades, F/M, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Kissing, Masks, Pagan Festivals, Post-Hogwarts, Post-War, Romance, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-19
Updated: 2021-03-19
Packaged: 2021-03-27 21:41:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30129252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CosmicCthulhu/pseuds/CosmicCthulhu
Summary: Hermione celebrates the beginning of spring for the first time, years after the war. She's not the only one who wants a fresh start.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 8
Kudos: 8
Collections: Masquerade





	Imbolc

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the March 2021 mini-fest Masquerade. It’s also the first time I’ve written for a fest, so please be kind!
> 
> Thank you to QuinTalon for hosting the fest!
> 
> I appreciate all comments and kudos I get!  
> English is not my first language, and this work is unbeta'd so all errors are my own.  
> Disclaimer: I do not own any part of the Harry Potter franchise.

Hermione held her breath and took in the wondrous sight that was forming before her. She was now standing in a clearing near a Scottish lake - one just as large, dark and ominous as the one near Hogwarts’. She, along with her friends, were there to celebrate Imbolc - the beginning of spring. 

_ A festival for rebirth and purification. _

There was a large crowd of people there, already dancing around large flames, crafting dolls and flower crowns, playing lively music, eating fruits, breads and cakes, and drinking wine, cider and mead. 

By her side, there’s an equally awed Harry and two smug-looking Weasleys - Ginny and Ron had been hyping up the festival for weeks now and it was clear that the visuals had exceeded their friend’s expectations.

“There’s so many people,” Harry spoke out loud, adjusting the mask in his face. “I wonder how many of them had gone to Hogwarts with us.”

It was hard to properly recognize anyone in there, aside from the fact that they seemed to be all around their twenties and thirties, it was hard to tell the people apart.

It was the first time that Imbolc was being celebrated in decades. The celebration had been abandoned and forgotten a few years after the war began, and only recently had some of the old pureblood families gotten together to revive their more innocuous and pleasant traditions.  And by the looks of it, their idea had been a success. It seemed that hundreds of people were gathered there for an opportunity of new beginnings - or perhaps to just enjoy themselves in all the alcohol and games.

All of the witches and wizards were wearing carefully crafted animal masks - handmade from paper, clay, twigs, feathers, antlers and infused with ancient magic and powerful runes. 

Hermione had fashioned herself a red fox mask that complemented her eyes and hair beautifully for that night, whilst Harry had crafted a blue-ish deer mask and the Wealseys had both chosen to honor their Griffindorish roots with a golden lion and a reddish lioness. 

“Let’s go! We don’t want to miss all the mead!” Ginny laughed, pulling Harry by the hand.

The brunette joined the crowd and soon she was enjoying her night, starting with only a glass of cider to avoid getting too drunk and missing all of the fun. 

She had even gone as far as humouring Luna ( _or at least she thought it was her. Who else would wear an alleged wrackspurt mask?_ ) with her unconving attempts to predict the coming weather.

There were many other revelers that she suspected were former classmates. She was almost sure that Neville was wearing a white rabbit mask, excitedly describing the properties of mandrake sap to a bored Seamus, who was under the alias of a leopard. 

Further in the distance, she suspected that she could see Blaise Zabini and Theo Nott, both looking like grey wolves, with glasses in their hands and talking to some giggling witches near the wine table.

And of course, near the pair of former Slytherins, there was  _ him _ .

Hermione could easily spot him in the crowd, despite the fact that he had a raven mask hiding most of his features - his platinum hair stood out against the moonlight and his piercing grey eyes were too distinct for her to not know who it was. 

If he really wished to disguise himself, he should have used charms. But then again, so should she.

Ginny and Ron were now motioning towards the lake, where a series of large campfires had been lit near the edge of the water. The siblings were explaining to her and Harry that there were several types of ritualistic magic that they should be doing in these festivals, and jumping over the flames for the sake of rebirth was one of the most popular ones.

It was obvious in the eagerness of their voices just how important it was to them to be doing this and Hermione had read several books and journals about this, of course. They'd only receive the blessing magic if they jumped over the flames before the night came to an end.

Still, Hermione felt like she needed to do something before she could properly begin anew. And her mind immediately conjured up the image of the man dressed in a raven mask.

“Will you come with us?” The other witch asked, with a large smile on her face and downing her third cup of elven wine. “We can choose the smaller fire if you want!”

“I think I’ll give it a try!” Harry nodded, eager to please his fiancé and soon-to-be brother in law.

Now, the trio turned to watch her response. Hermione glanced in the direction of the roaring, bright red campfire and then turned to look behind her back, trying to catch a glimpse of  _ his _ grey eyes, but found that he had already been gone - lost in the middle of the lively crowd.

“I think I’ll just get some more cider, first. You go on without me!”

“Okay. We’ll be at the lake if you need us!” Ron said at last, already running barefoot towards the fires, clutching the lion mask in his hands. 

She nodded in response, knowing that the trio were too far away to listen to anything she would have said. The sound of flutes and violins were too loud and mildly disoriented for her tastes, but the other witches and wizards were clearly enjoying these ancient melodies. 

Grabbing more cider for herself, she settled down on the grass in a quieter corner of the clearing, scanning the crowd, and trying to guess which animals corresponded to her friends and former colleagues.  The witch saw more rabbits, deer, foxes, rats and several other depictions of animals dancing around the flames and genuinely enjoying the festival and celebrating the beginning of spring.

It was hard to think that most of these wizards and witches were fighting in a gruesome war less than a decade ago. It was hard to think that  _ she _ fought in a war less than a decade ago.

And then, she spotted him again, alone and not far away from her own little spot. The same tall figure with a raven mask and pale blond hair. 

_ Draco Malfoy.  _

The last time she had seen him - years ago, during his very public trials - he looked thin and haunted and barely spoke to anyone after his hearings. To her surprise, the man had approached her and her friends to beg for forgiveness over everything that had happened during school and the war. She was glad to see that he had grown healthier since then.

It was fascinating to see him like that. So innocent-looking and at ease. 

Nursing a half-empty cup of wine in his hands and with a strangely warm smile showing through the bottom of the mask and with his head swaying to the sound of the music - almost as if he was enjoying the festival just as much as the other revelers.

Hermione wondered that particular night compared to the several others he must have experienced in the past. 

For her, a muggleborn, it was the first time she had even heard about a festival such as that. But for him, a pureblood from an old family, it was something that he was deeply familiar with, and probably had been deeply used to the sights by now.

She could see the man turning to briefly look at her, almost as if he knew she had been watching him. And suddenly, she felt a strong and unfamiliar need to approach and talk to him ( _maybe she had a bit too much cider for the night?_ ).

The witch felt a lump forming in her throat, feeling her heart rate speed up with nervous energy. She adjusted her mask, just to make sure it hadn’t flown away to reveal her identity.

She rose from the patch of grass she had been sitting on silently, and turned her head to see her friends near the lake, taking turns to jump over the flames and laughing carelessly near the waters. With a deep breath, the witch made her way across the clearing to settle near Draco, who was now looking at her with curiosity playing in his silvery eyes.

“Have you jumped over the flames yet?” Hermione started, pretending that she didn’t know who he was. There was that unmistakable smirk playing in his lips and a glint in his eyes, as he carefully analysed the witch before him.

“We can jump together, if you want,” he held out his hand, pretending that he didn’t know her either.

She could do this. That night was about rebirth and new beginnings. She needed that just as much as he did. They all had suffered enough for almost an entire decade and they needed to let go of the past to let the scars heal properly.

Hermione accepted Draco’s hand, and she let herself be guided by him towards the flames, idly noticing the pair of lion masked red-heads and deer masked black-haired man now watching her in the distance. Did they know who she was talking to? Were they worried? It was hard to tell because of the distance and the masks in their faces, but surely they’d be running over in her defense if they were truly bothered.

So, with their hands still joined, they both picked up their pace approaching the fire and quickly judging the distance they needed to jump for them not to get burned, and safely land on the dark cold waters from the lake.

They jump together. There’s a twirl and tumble and Hermione was sure that if she had delayed for only a second, the fire would have rosen to lick her linen dress and burn her feet, but ultimately they safely landed together in the waters with a loud splash.

She can feel the strong presence of unusual power pulsing all around her - coming from the flames of the pyres, the cold February air, the cider that lingered on her tongue and especially from his firm hand, holding hers. 

It was almost overwhelming to be surrounded by such ancient magic.

Both of their masks were now lost in the dark waters - she’d have to fish it out soon, or else she’d need to find another way to conceal her identity. But she couldn’t bring herself to care quite yet.

The witch was now laughing, breathless and struggling to get her footing to stand on the shallow waters, but the wizard mercifully helped her up, stabilizing her by the waist with his thankfully warm hands - only now she realized she could have charmed herself to keep the cold at bay.

She looked up to see Draco looking at her, just as breathless and with something that resembled fascination in his smile. His silver eyes glinted with the help of the fire light and she didn’t mind the cold so much now that his warm body was inching closer to hers. It almost felt like he could see right into her soul, which made her avert her face down to look back at the flames.

“We didn’t get burned.”

“You sound surprised,” he chuckled and it was a pleasant sound that she yearned to hear again.

“It’s a good omen! According to the traditions, it means that we’ve been properly purified now and-”

The brunette doesn’t get to finish her rambling because Draco slowly inched forward, suddenly serious, with darkened eyes and an unreadable expression, tilting her chin up to make her look at him in the eyes. ( _Had he always been this handsome? Merlin, she couldn’t think of anything besides his lips now!_ )  


She can see the desire playing in his lips and she can feel it too. If Hermione were to guess, she’d say that it was the magic all over the air that was making them feel high and amenable. 

There’s a silent question lingering between them, and Hermione decided to answer it by getting even closer to the man, enjoying the heat coming from him.  She didn’t even hesitate when she placed her arms around his neck to pull him down and connect their lips, enjoying the taste of the wine and honey that lingered in his tongue. And the brunette couldn’t help but smile into his lips when he held her closer, deepening the kiss and grunting in unmistakable pleasure.

They separate when there’s a need to gasp for air and they can see that more people had already joined them in the lake and that the flames had grown dimmer, meaning that the festival was close to an end.

Ginny calls for her, at the edge of the waters at the same time that Blaise and Theo are waving at the man and asking for him to join them.

At first, the pair seem reluctant to part, but when they do, neither looks back.

Instead of lingering in the now freezing waters, Hermione dips her hands in the lake, and easily finds one of the masks that had been abandoned - it was the raven, but surely it would do the job of hiding her face just as well. 

She walks towards Harry, Ginny and Ron to walk back to the Burrow, deciding that they all had enough of the celebration. Still, she refused to talk about what had happened that night and what she was hoping to achieve with that little performance, despite Ginny’s insistent questioning.

With a flush in her cheeks, Hermione smiled to herself and enjoyed the fact that the taste of wine still lingered in her mouth, keeping the raven mask as a memento of her first Imbolc. 


End file.
